More than Enemies, More than Friends
by TaylorWine
Summary: Oh, it's nothing of sorts, this story. Just a small tale of romance and unrequited love; a tale of loyalty and deception; a tiny bit of drama as well. Welcome back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Hazel eyes greeted him as they shot up out of her head. _Beautiful head, _James Sirius Potter corrected himself as he examined the girl clearly. A rather ordinary face, the girl had, framed by dark waves of hair. Average height, slender build. Nothing out-there for an average eleven year old. But there was something about this girl that James just couldn't get out of his head. Those hazel eyes haunted him as the first years walked into the Great Hall, eagerly waiting to be Sorted. James's eyes followed her graceful steps, admiring her figure. _She's something alright. Something indeed. _The enamored boy was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't hear Professor Longbottom calling "Potter, James!"

Giggles burst out as James realized the girl was motioning for him that it was his turn. His cheeks burned red as he stumbled up the steps, furious with himself for being made a fool. He desperately needed to redeem himself. As he sat down on the rickety old stool, his confidence plummeted however.

_Ah, a Potter. I do recall putting a mild fight against your father regarding his House. But this is not the case. Better be…_

"GRYFFINDOR!" James's eyes opened to meet his cousins cheering proudly at the legendary table. He grinned cockily, feeling quite the man. Feeling the sudden, unexplainable urge to show off for those pretty hazel eyes. Strutting down the steps, he turned to the girl and winked. Expecting a giggle or a million-dollar smile, instead, James was shocked to see the pretty hazel eyes rolling in a perfect circle. It must have shown on his face because the girl smirked and haughtily looked away. Ah well, James knowingly smiled. She would come around some day.

"Well, well, well Mr. Big Shot, look at you! Potter's in Gryffindor." Dominique, his beautiful cousin, wolf-whistled as he took a seat next to her. Her bright pink lipstick stood out as she finger-combed her long blond hair. She hugged him fiercely, earning a few admiring glances and James earning glares from the new admirers. Unfortunate for those uninformed misfits, as they had no idea that Dom was FAMILY. Besides, James had eyes only for those pretty hazel eyes. Roxanne, Fred II and Louis all congratulated him. Loudly. The talking hushed, however, once Headmistress McGonagoll silenced them with a sharp glance.

As Professor Longbottom called, "Wood, Gemma!", the girl with the pretty hazel eyes walked up confidently with her head up high. James liked that: a girl with no inhibitions, not afraid to show up the world. The minute the Sorting Hat was placed on the dark waves, it yelled, "GRYFFINDOR!"

"YES!" The entire Great Hall turned toward the blushing James Sirius Potter. Snickers erupted as "Wood, Gemma" walked to the Gryffindor Table, with her pretty hazel eyes blazing with fury. She had nowhere else to sit but next to a blushing James. Struggling to regain his composure (_breathe Potter; you're embarrassing yourself)_, he said in a suave tone, "Welcome to Gryffindor. I'm Potter. James Sirius Potter, to be exact. And you are?"

Those pretty hazel eyes, crackling still from the excitement after her Sorting, met his brown ones. "It's Gemma Wood. But Wood to you, Potter. Especially you. Don't forget it." His hand was stuck out, as if wanting to shake hers. It slowly pulled away as the electricity crackling in her eyes went up to the lightning levels. She then turned away immediately, making it clear that business as usual would continue-just not between them.

But even as he felt her message, James Sirius Potter swore that one day, they would become more than enemies, more than friends. And that was what comforted his ego as he made his way through a mound of shepherd's pie

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	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter world, presently or past, in any circumstances. This all**

**belongs to Ms. J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

Chapter 1

*Summer after 5th Year*

Another beautiful summer's day had arrived in glorious Godric's Hollow. The sky was a shimmering blue, hinted with the diamond-like rays of sunlight. Birds were flittering about, chirping their musical tones of happiness. Clouds were out of sight, which was excellent for some one-on-one Quidditch practice with Albus or maybe Lily. Mouthwatering smells of cinnamon and vanilla wafted up through the house, showcasing a preview of what Mum was making. But instead of rushing to put some exercise in (which he would have done sooner), or running to beat Albus for two-thirds of Mum's delicious breakfast (which he was sure he would have won), James Sirius Potter could be found lying nostalgically on his bed.

He was positive that he wasn't sick at all. Not physically, he assured himself as he took great lengths to stay in top shape. No, James Sirius Potter felt sick on the inside. As he dazedly examined his room (adorned with Gryffindor banners, posters, and magical photos of his best mates from school), he recalled an event in his 5th year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that left a bitter taste in his mouth.

_ The Great Hall was filled with laughter and loud whispers being carried in conversation as breakfast appeared on their tables. The Gryffindors, as usual, were the main cause of the noise. The Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match was a well-fought game, but with their superbly superior team, the Gryffindor Quidditch team had won once again. James couldn't stop grinning. His third match as Gryffindor Captain, and look at his success! He just knew that they could win the Quidditch Cup! The score was 465-40, consisting of a tough Keeper (Robbie Peakes), two mischievous Beaters (Roxanne and Fred II), a spanking great Seeker (yes, Albus his brother-but he had a clear eye for spotting that Snitch), and the best Chasers of the best (himself, Frank Longbottom II, and the beautiful Gemma Wood)._

_ Everyone was still buzzing about the recent victory that they had almost missed Headmistress McGonagall rise from the Head's Table. Her sharp eyes scanned the room, silently scolding the ongoing talkers who hushed almost immediately. Satisfied with the silence in the room, she continued on: "It is another fine year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, thanks to the survivors and honorable deceased who fought in the Battle of Hogwarts on May 2__nd__, 1998. It has been twenty-two years since that Battle. The School Board Governors, the Ministry and the Staff have been in correspondence since the summer. We have decided to host a Victory Ball in memory of our success."_

_ The Great Hall had been unusually quiet until the announcement. When the word of a Ball had been mentioned, whispers burst out. Girls could be heard whispering frantically, "But I haven't got the latest dress robes yet!" "Oh, I left my makeup at home! Why didn't I bring it with me?" "Ooh, I hope Roger will ask me!" Boys surrounding grimaced, and fidgeted as girls looked around, perhaps searching for a worthy suitor._

_ James looked around at the Gryffindor Table. Gemma wasn't one of the whisperers, he noted. She was studying her Transfiguration textbook, making little notes in the margins. _Well_ thought James. _If there's a Ball coming, might as well have Gemma as my date. That'll be the perfect way to get her to go out with me! I bet I won't need luck however. With that victory at the Quidditch match and my superior good looks, she'll just succumb to my charm. _James daydreamed about Gemma screaming yes to his invitation (_She would look great in scarlet and gold_) when he felt a sharp stab in his ribcage. Frank, his best mate, sniggered and pointed toward Gemma. It seemed that she noticed his staring and glared fiercely at James._

_ James smiled cockily, knowing that she secretly just couldn't resist. He couldn't help but wink suggestively at those pretty hazel eyes, which in turn narrowed a warning. Shaking his head, he listened once more to McGonagall._

_ "Now, now, the Victory Ball will take place on May 2__nd__ at seven. Only fourth years and older may attend. However, younger students may attend if invited by upperclassmen. I expect nothing but _appropriate _behavior from all four Houses. I will be severely displeased at any nonsense, as the veterans of the Battle and the War will be attending. Now carry on with your lessons." _

_ James, finished with breakfast, was followed by Frank and they left to Charms class. Soon, all the students left the Great Hall in huddles, particularly the girls. They giggled and fretted with their hair, winking in various directions. The boys, on the other hand, looked downcast and miserably tried to work up the nerve to ask the girl of their fancy. It was going to be a long month before the ball arrived._

_ Frank asked with a laugh, "Still chasing after Wood, huh?" Gemma was walking to Charms as well, with her fellow female Gryffindors. Those dark waves were tied up in a messy but chic braid that suited her quite well. James nodded yes, strutting down quickly._

_ "You know, mate," James began. "This year, Gemma just has to say yes. I've got it all figured out. If I ask like a True Gentleman, she'll succumb to my glorious charm and sensibility. Genius, right?" They entered the classroom, sitting their bags down when James noticed Gemma moved deliberately to the other side of the room. _Ah well_, thought James. _She's just afraid of falling apart.

_Frank and James argued about the statistics of Gemma saying yes while they worked on trying to practice "_Silencio_" on their ravens and toads. As the class period wore down, James agreed to ask her straightaway. With a girl as pretty and vivacious as Gemma Wood, James feared that he wouldn't be the only one to ask her. _

_ Tracking her down after class, James sprinted to find her walking (thankfully) alone amidst a sea of fifth years going to Ancient Runes. He cursed himself for not taking Ancient Runes and ignoring Aunt Hermione's contradictions about Divination. _

_ "Gemma, hey Gemma!" Turning around, Gemma found herself looking at a slightly-harassed James Potter._

_ "What do you want, Potter? I can't be late for class, now, can I?"_

_ "I can't believe how beautiful you look when you're angry, Gemma."_

_ "Is that all you're blibbering about? And I've told you, it's Wood to you especially." Gemma made a move to leave, but James (in a moment of desperation) grabbed her shoulders. She looked shocked and finally stayed put._

_ "I wanted to ask you, erm…," James stuttered but slowly regained his confidence as he peered away into those pretty hazel eyes that he dreamed about so much. "I wanted to ask your permission to take you to the Victory Ball. Will you be my date?"_

_ Gemma stood stunned. For a hopeful moment, James thought she would say yes. He thought that she would say yes to be his date, to be his girlfriend, and if the time was right, to spend the rest of her life with him. But as the light came back into her eyes, the electricity was crackling quite fiercely. She shook herself to see that cocky smile she hated so much spreading across his trouble-making face and suddenly, had the desire to knock it off._

_ "No, you do not have my permission." With that, she turned on her heel and walked away. Stunned and a bit insulted, James grabbed her hand. _

_ "Wait! Gemma, wait! Why?"_

_ Eyes crackling, her feisty temper resurfaced. "You want to know why, Potter? Because this is a joke to you. It's always a joke to you. You're arrogant, you're selfish, you're cocky and an annoying prat as well. You strut down the hallways like you own it and-and-and-well, just let me be!" Blushing beet red, the girl pulled her hand away and rushed embarrassedly to Ancient Runes. As she sat down, she couldn't get the hurt look of James Potter's face out of her mind. He looked so…vulnerable._

_ But that was only a tenth of what she realized what he felt. Humiliated, James walked back to Divination with his head hanging down. Whistling softly, he was fifteen minutes late._

Even three months after that horrifying incident, James couldn't get her out of his head. He lived the last couple months of his fifth year quietly (well, quietly for him anyways), going on pranking-withdrawal, searching himself deeply to reach modesty, and tried not to ask Gemma out again at Quidditch practice anymore. Of course, James thought wryly, he would still hold strong feelings for her. _Who wouldn't? _James thought bitterly. Strong-willed, intelligent, feisty and athletic, Gemma Wood was certainly quite the catch. He remembered seeing her the night of the Victory Ball.

Just seeing her made him spill butterbeer all over his new dress robes. His date exasperatedly waved her wand to clean him up. Gemma's dark hair was curled and danced on her back. Dress robes of a brilliant red clothed her slender figure, giving her skin a rosy glow. But it was the joy in her eyes that killed James, as he watched her stupid date make stupid jokes to entertain her. As James recalled the memory, he still scowled. He knew that Alfie Thomas was nothing more than a stupid pretty boy who no girl deserved to be stuck with. And he still couldn't understand why Gemma had chosen _that arse _to be with rather than the charming boy who had a crush on her since before the Sorting in their first year!

Yawning, James reluctantly got ready and went downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. Lily and Albus were already there, wolfing down Mum's magical breakfast.

Ginny looked over at James and handed him a plate. "Hey there, Jamie," She smiled and poured out his favorite maple syrup over those mouthwatering pancakes. "Big day, huh?"

James was halfway through his first stack of pancakes when he heard what his mother had said. Choking as he tried to speak, he asked, "Big 'ay? 'Uh?" Scoffing in disgust, Lily smacked her big brother on the back. Hard.

"OOF! Ugh, thanks Lils. Sorry Mum, what do you mean by 'Big Day'?"

"Well, isn't today the day your O.W.L.s come?"

James mentally groaned. Of course. How could he have forgotten? He hadn't been worried before, but now he began to panic. These results could detriment his potential Quidditch career, or following in his dad's footsteps as an Auror. James wasn't one for nerves, but now his stomach made him regret eating those eight fluffy pancakes.

Lily smirked. "Bet you that James flunked his O.W.L.s, Albus. Five Galleons."

Albus smiled mischievously in return. "He would flunk History of Magic with a P, Divination with a T, and somehow end up with an O in Potions. Ten Galleons, Lily. You're on." Although he was as much Gryffindor as the rest of his family, the little git had the shrewdness of a Slytherin.

Scowling, James kicked both his siblings under the table.

"Hush it, Lily, or you'll have to clean Albus's room as well as your own." Ginny wasn't one to muck about with, and Lily cowered in respect as she cleaned her plate and quietly left the room.

"Ah, good morning Gin. I'm beat." Harry entered the room in his pajamas, yawning frightfully with a mop of messier hair to match. He slunk down in the table, and drained the cup of coffee left for him. Grinning sheepishly at James, Harry said, "Mornin', James. Feeling good about your test results?"

James grinned nervously. "You could say that, but it wouldn't have any effect on how I did. Unless, of course, you give me a Time-Turner and allow me to take my textbooks with me to the examinations again." Chuckling, Harry got up to kiss her wife and help her with the dishes. He turned toward James again and answered. "You'll do fine. The only classes I ended up flunking were Divination and History of Magic. Mark my words, James, those are the stupidest classes that you will never regret failing." Whacking him on the head with a rag, Harry ducked another hit form Ginny.

Laughing for the next few minutes, nobody noticed the tawny owl holding pieces of parchment in its beak. It made its way through the window and went flying straight for James, deposited the parchment and flew away once more.

Hands shaking, everyone followed a nervous James Sirius Potter into the living room. His cheeks grew flushed with anticipation as he opened the parchment. Enclosed was his O.W.L.s. This was his future that he was holding in his hands. This would dictate whether of not he could pursue his dream careers.

Mr. James Sirius Potter has achieved:

Astronomy **(E)xceeds Expectations**

C.M.C **(E)xceeds Expectations**

Charms **(O)utstanding**

D.A.D.A **(O)utstanding**

Divination **(T)roll**

Herbology **(E)xceeds Expectations**

History of Magic **(P)oor**

Muggle Studies **(A)cceptable**

Potions **(O)utstanding**

Transfiguration **(E)xceeds Expectations**

James couldn't believe his eyes. He hadn't believed himself able to achieve his results like this. He passed! He was able to continue on with his dream career!

Peering at his results, Lily scowled and dropped a handful of Galleons in Albus's hand. Smirking, he said, "Can't wait to bet on your O.W.L.s, Lily."

**A/N: Hello! Any suggestions or reviews, please make do! I wanted to make a James S. Potter who had the same love-life problems as his namesake did with Lily Evans. I don't, however, want to portray Gemma Wood as a parallel to Lily Evans. In the story, you'll see the differences between them and how Gemma will deal with her "Potter." In the meantime, sit back and relax! Thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, presently or past. This belongs all to Ms. J.K. Rowling, the original creator and genius.**

Chapter 2

As the Potter family walked down Diagon Alley, James couldn't stop grinning. After Harry and Ginny had gotten over the shock of his O.W.L.s, Ginny began smothering her eldest son with kisses and hugs while his father thumped him proudly on the back. Between the two of them, they announced that James had earned the gift of getting the broom of his choice.

In addition to his O.W.L.s, Hogwarts had also sent the lists of books and (if any) supplies they need for the upcoming school year. To kill two birds with one stone, Harry and Ginny decided to do their school shopping later that day. Lily couldn't stop grumbling about having to lose her money to some "git who couldn't tell one end of a broom from his own" while Albus playfully flipped his newly acquired money. James couldn't have cared less. A new broomstick! His parents must have been quite surprised at his results. Because of all the pranks and trouble James got into school, his parents had been notified countless times of his seemingly endless term of detentions. Hell, James even engraved his name with his wand into his favorite chair to sit in through detention. It was polished weekly and everything.

Minutes later, James exited the Quality Quidditch Supplies shop with a package in hand and his cocky grin in tow. The new Firebolt 3000 had earned great reviews and many of Ireland's National Quidditch players had bought the brooms in preparation for the upcoming Quidditch World Cup. Albus had practically drooled over the broom, while Lily merely stood by and sneaked looks, failing miserably at trying to appear nonchalant.

While walking toward Flourish and Blotts, James saw Frank and his younger sister, Alice, standing outside the Leaky Cauldron. They waved encouragingly, "Hey Mum, can I spend the rest of my time with Frank and Alice? I promise I'll Floo back from the Leaky Cauldron." With permission granted and promises to buy him his books, Harry gave James a pocket money bag to spend however he liked. Albus, in the meantime, would carry James's new broom back home. It pained James to be away from his broom, but he promised himself to use it immediately after he got home.

Strolling leisurely and confidently toward the Leaky Cauldron, James's cocky grin told Frank the entire story.

"Hey mate, how're you doing? Been good?"

"Never been better. Got your O.W.L.s, then?" Frank nodded and pointed indoors. His mum, Hannah Longbottom (who was the landlady of the Leaky Cauldron), was found waving her wand around rather clumsily. The chairs and tables swayed dangerously as the dust was cleaned off and vanished.

Alice giggled, her cheeks flushed from the summer heat. "When Frank's results came, Mum was so pleased she knocked over Dad when she went to smother Frank. Quite a sight to see." Alice's hair was tied back in a messy ponytail and was clothed in what seemed to be Frank's Gryffindor t-shirt and an old pair of frayed jeans. Although she was a girl, she played as rough and tumble as her brother and his friends. She wasn't girly at all or intended to join any gossip-filled conversations that girls seemed to like so much. James was pleased that she was Lily's best friend. He wouldn't approve of any girly-girl influencing Lily.

Laughing about nonsense and other things, they went to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor (repaired by Fortescue, who survived the war miraculously) and sat at one of the booths. So immersed in their talking, James didn't notice a girl enter through the doors, holding hands with a boy who was apparently laughing hard at something she just said.

Scowling fiercely at the two of them, James saw Alfie Thomas holding Gemma closely. She looked exceptionally pretty, James noted glumly. Her dark waves were once again in that messy but chic braid that suited her, her slender figure in striped shorts, an oversized blue top, and a pair of pink Muggle Converse. Despite the casual wear, Gemma looked pulled-together and well, _good. _James tried to smooth down his messy mop of reddish-brown hair that he despised so much.

Looking down at his clothes, he regretted wearing his maroon Weasley sweater that clashed horribly with his hair. James examined Alfie with renewed interest. Of course, he wore only the best clothes and looked every bit of the pretty-boy stereotype: olive-toned skin, dark eyes, perfectly wind-swept hair that flopped in his eyes. He was aware of his good looks, unfortunately, and made no effort to pretend to have any modesty. _Self-absorbed much? _James furiously began picturing a vivid scene in which he would make obscene gestures towards the prat. Relaxing a bit at the daydream, James woke immediately when Gemma glowed as Alfie gave her a kiss on the cheek. She giggled embarrassedly and ran her hand flirtatiously through the prick's perfect hair.

That did it. James was about to stand up when Frank, noticing his move, called, "Hey Alfie, Gemma! Care to join us?" Alice nodded, holding James down by the shoulder to prevent him from clawing out at Alfie's face. It was lucky that Alice was strong, otherwise Fortescue might have to ban James from ever stepping into his parlor again. As he saw Gemma move towards them with Alfie, James subconsciously noticed a prominent scowl emanating from the normally cheerful look on his best mate's sister.

"Hi Frank, Alice, it's nice to see you again. Having a nice summer?" Gemma, making an effort to get along, sat opposite James and skin-touching-close to Alfie. Alfie sat rather reluctantly, noticing and quite aware of James's affections for his girlfriend. Despite being dorm-mates and practically in every class together, James wouldn't look Alfie in the eye for weeks after the Victory Ball. Alfie had figured it out, but had done nothing about his relationship with Gemma. Fights ensued right under Gemma's nose (as James believed); in the dormitory; on the Quidditch field; even in the library. But no, not physical fights involving something as petty as Muggle dueling. James wasn't one to punch unless his temper got the best of him. He preferred intellectual debates, contrary to what Rose and Albus said.

Struggling to regain his composure, James calmed himself down and smiled. Gemma looked up and was surprised to find a rather shy grin. Usually his grin was filled with the typical dose of cockiness infused with a rather strong amount of confidence. "Summer's been great. How did you do on your O.W.L.s? You did get them today?"

Gemma, stunned to be having this conversation, nodded. Alfie answered, a bit more aggressive than needed, "Yeah we got ours today. Gem did fabulously, of course. We were actually coming here to celebrate. You know," Alfie narrowed his eyes dangerously and wrapped his arm rather possessively around Gemma. "_Alone."_

A wave of rage swept over and crashed. _Gem? Alone? _Studying the two together, the way Gemma didn't push him away or wrinkle her nose in disgust, James realized Gemma was happy. It stung terribly. It was painfully obvious that the two had grown closer together from the last months during fifth year to the summertime now. Cue in regret, that James hadn't changed earlier for her. Cue in heartbreak that he _had _asked Gemma out first but she declined more than once. Cue in embarrassment, that Gemma wasn't oblivious to the tension between Alfie and James, and was blushing a brighter red as the awkward silence ensued. Cue in self-pity, that James was feeling sorrier for himself than he ever had. But worst of all, cue in the cold hard truth that Gemma might never be his to have and to hold.

James struggled to smile. He tried to get along, he really did. But he wasn't oblivious to any of the emotions brewing riskily at the ice-cream parlor. Getting up to his feet, he nodded. "That's great. Look, I've got to get home now. It getting late and Mum'll be worried if I don't show up for dinner. See you all in school. Frank, Alice. Alfie, Gemma." Truth be told, James was allowed out till six and it was only three. But his heart couldn't take anymore breaking. Shooting him a worried look, Frank motioned for Alice to come and they left the parlor.

"James, mate,-"

"What am I playing at? I'm so stupid, why would I ever think that Gemma would grow tired of pretty boy Thomas and suddenly realize her feelings for me? That son-"

"James!"

"And then _he shows up! _Like 'oh, I'm so sorry that I'm good enough for the girl you've fancied since first year'! Oh I'll show him remorse-"By this point, James was so filled with anger and indignation that he was incapable of words.

Alice tried to soothe his wounded feelings. "Look James, I know that you have liked Gemma Wood since forever. And Alfie Thomas is a giant prat, believe me. But if you keep chasing after Gemma, you'll just keep getting your heart broken. It won't be able to heal! Maybe you should let her go for now." She looked into his distressed eyes, and awkwardly patted him on the back. The thirteen-year old had a point. James knew that Gemma _was _causing him pain, no matter how unintentional. And Alice _did _have a point. But no matter how hard he could try to get Gemma out of his head, it seemed like she was permanently there.

However, he could see that he was worrying the Longbottoms. Calming himself down enough to be comprehensible, he said, "You're right, Alice. I need to move on. Gemma's obviously crazy about Thomas and he's obviously not letting her out of his sight. It's important for my sanity and health to be sane for now. Or else, what good would it do for the fabulous Gryffindor Quidditch Captain to be introduced to the funny farm?"

Relieved, Frank thumped his mate on the back. "That's the spirit, James. Let's make a girl fast so you can get over heartbreaks. Gemma Wood can't penetrate that thick shell. Mark my words, mate, she'll be drooling over you once she realizes what she's been missing. Now come on, you need to Floo over to home." Walking back to the Leaky Cauldron with Frank and Alice, they laughed and joked as if nothing had happened. But although James acted fine, in the inside he still felt like a mess. It would be rude if he still moped and moaned about his problems with his closest friends after all they had done for him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, presently or past, as that world belongs solely to Ms. J.K. Rowling.**

Chapter 3

*The Leaky Cauldron*

As Alice ran up to her room, she collapsed onto her bed. It was, admittedly, and exhausting day. From running errands for Mum, working part-time in the Leaky Cauldron, buying not only her supplies but at least four other families', to running to the Apothecary for Dad to the drama brewing between the James/Gemma/Alfie love triangle, Alice Augusta Longbottom had had quite enough for now. She groaned in annoyance at the yells and noises emanating from the nearby rooms. These guests needed a few lessons in common decency, but of course, Hannah Longbottom was too busy to teach them. Maybe she should ask Dad to magically sound-proof her walls.

But Alice knew full well that the noise wasn't what bothered her. It was the look of sheer heartbreak written only too clearly on her big brother's best mate's face: James Sirius Potter.

Ah. James Potter. Just thinking about his name sent shivers up her spine. His reddish-brown mop, so messy and carefree, shone brightly and blew dramatically on the Quidditch field. His amber eyes revealed any emotions he was feeling: determination, frustration, confidence, luck, and most recently, betrayal. His laugh, so infectious and contagious, echoed in her mind. But Alice glumly knew that James Sirius Potter would never see her more than Frank Longbottom's younger sister or worse, his younger sister's best friend. Besides, she was just thirteen. She was going to be a pesky third year while he would be a mature and smooth sixth year. It was a tragic three-year difference.

Alice hated seeing him in pain, especially at the hands of a heartbreaking girl. Gemma Wood. Humph. A year ago, she wouldn't have snarled at her name being mentioned. But the past year became frustratingly difficult to swallow down her name as Alice's feelings for James grew immeasurably. Guiltily, she recalled all the times Gemma rejected James and felt a bit of triumph. She thought foolishly that maybe once James got over Gemma, he would realize that she was waiting here patiently for him to run into her arms. But Alice knew, deep in her naïve heart, that it was likely that James would never truly get over Gemma. Gemma may not have realized it, but even Alice could see that James may have even felt a deep love for her and would do anything for her to see that.

So of course, when Gemma Wood and Alfie Thomas entered the parlor, Alice had to fight back a vindictive impulse all while restraining James from jumping Alfie. Alice knew that her teens would be difficult, but never _this _difficult.

Alice realized soon that she was shaking, and got up to go to her bathroom. Rinsing her face in the mirror, she studied her reflection. Not much there. Pale face decorated with a scattering of unflattering freckles, rather ordinary blue eyes, ordinary nose, and with the blessing of unmanageable brown hair. _I'm okay, _Alice chanted over and over again. But the little pep talk made no difference whatsoever on how she regarded her "plain jane" appearance. Grudgingly, she admitted that Gemma was pretty. With that fabulous dark hair and hazel eyes, why wouldn't James be smitten?

"James is older than you. He is your older brother's best mate. He is _your best friend's _oldest brother. He is too close to complicate your love life. Get over it, Alice. Don't get your knickers in a twist." Alice told herself this quietly, but fiercely. There was no point ruining her third year for a boy who was too far away to catch.

*Tinworth (West Country)*

Gemma Wood was in her library, finishing the touches to her summer homework. Although she had finished them the second week of summer vacation, she still felt the need to update her History of Magic essay with current information. It would be a waste of summer if she didn't continually revise, re-edit, and rework her writing.

But unfortunately for Gemma, she couldn't revise, re-edit, or rework her summer essays. She couldn't read the _Daily Prophet _for its "Day in History" section. She couldn't get a head-start on reading her new school textbooks. Because, unfortunately for her, it was James Potter's fault.

That James Potter. Humph. Ever since their Sorting, Gemma couldn't stand him. She hated the way he strutted down the halls, as if being The Boy Who Lived's son guaranteed him ownership. She despised the way he fooled around in class, hexed those who annoyed him, or pranked anyone just because he felt like _and still _managed to pass with flying colors. She detested his messy mop of hair and the irritating way he ran his hand through it. _It was messy enough already, can't he just brush it? _Gemma though angrily, knocking over her ink bottle all over the table.

Oblivious to the running mess, Gemma continued on in her thoughts. _He seemed so upset today though…_She felt guilty for not doing anything about it. She knew all too well of James's feelings toward her and toward Alfie. Ever since she turned James down for the Victory Ball, a growing ball of shame and blame knotted her stomach. His hurt eyes haunted her every time she saw him at school.

Gemma didn't know why she turned him down. James was so sweet about asking "for her permission" to be his date. His eyes were pleading and delicate, solely relying on her answer on whether or not to say yes. His expression was almost humble, letting Gemma know that it was in her hands to say yes or to say no. But in a split second, Gemma remembered who he was and why she hated him. In a rage, she screamed "NO" and proceeded to explain why she hated him. Gemma had shocked herself. She had never, _ever _rejected James so harshly. It was different before the Victory Ball. She had always assumed James Potter was joking about liking her, and therefore would ask her out to no end just to laugh in her face. But only now did Gemma realize that James Sirius Potter genuinely harbored strong feelings for her.

Minutes after The Incident, Alfie Thomas asked her to the Victory Ball. Ah, Alfie. Just thinking about him still brought a goofy smile to her face. Although he was in her year and House, Gemma had never held more than a one-minute conversation with him. She had heard rumors, however. Apparently, he was prone to be nothing more than a poker-faced player who broke more than three hearts at a time. And those warnings rang in her head as Alfie Thomas cornered her.

_Gemma kept walking until she entered the Ancient Runes classroom. The image of James's broken face haunted her even as she sat down. _Why did I turn him down? Does he really like me, or was this another joke? _Professor Vector kept rambling on about the Egyptians' special healing runes. Usually Gemma was the most attentive and the fastest note-taker, but after the horrible rejection she was sure she would never be able to concentrate again._

_ Finally class was over. Her friends kept crowding her, worried that she wasn't well. "I'm fine. No really, it's okay. I think I'm just going to head over to the library for now." After a bit more persisting, the other girls agreed and went to their respective classes. Gemma grabbed her bags and made a run for it. Tears started pouring from her eyes. She stopped suddenly, furious. She _never _cried. What was wrong with her?_

_ "Is that you, Wood?" A masculine voice came from behind her. Turning around rather reluctantly, Gemma found Alfie Thomas standing awkwardly. He was tall, with dark worried eyes and wind-swept hair. Moving toward her, he put his muscular arm around her shoulders as if wanting to be a comfort. Breaking down completely, Gemma sobbed hysterically into his sculpted chest._

_ Realizing what she was doing after a few minutes, she cleared her throat and pulled away._

_ "Erm, thanks," she muttered. Alfie cracked a smile._

_ "No problem. Why were you crying, anyhow? Pretty girl like you shouldn't being upset." Gemma found herself blushing. All she heard was "pretty girl". _

_ "I, um, just made a mistake. Nothing more. But thanks anyways, for comforting me. I should get to class." She made a move to leave, but Alfie grabbed her hand. Again with the hand-grabbing? Gemma turned around with the electricity crackling in her eyes, ready to let loose some steam, when she met Alfie's eyes._

_ His dark, mysterious eyes made her draw in a quick breath of air. In that moment, Gemma fearfully recalled rumors of him being a heartbreaker, a player, a cheater. But also in that moment, Gemma didn't care. Somehow, it took her mind off of—no. She wouldn't allow herself to think of him. Alfie seemed to have an interest in her as well. _

_ "So…" Alfie started. He cleared his throat and shot Gemma an honest-to-goodness smile. She felt her heart pumping. He had a heart-melting smile. "Gemma, there's that Victory Ball coming up in a few weeks. I don't know if you need a date or not, seeing pretty you are, but I was wondering if you would like to be my date." He let go of her hand and ran his own through his hair. Gemma froze. James Potter did that all the time. But on Alfie, it was breathtaking. _

_ "Um…yes. Yes, I would like to be your date." Gemma finally grinned, memories of James flying out of her mind. So what? Alfie let out a laugh, and a promise to walk her to the library. Their walk consisted of small talk and ended too soon. Alfie looked into Gemma's hopeful eyes, and grinning, gave her a soft but meaningful kiss on the cheek._

_ Gemma's heart, beating so fast, nearly stopped when she felt his lips on her cheek. Closing her eyes to hold the memory forever, she opened them to find Alfie walking back to his class with a skip in his step._

From that moment on, Alfie became her boyfriend. He was smart, witty, and exceptionally clever. He gave her the cutest kisses: on the cheek (for a greeting), on the forehead (to show he missed her), and by the end of the year, on her lips. They would stay up for hours in the common room, doing their homework together, laughing, talking about their war-hero parents, or just enjoying each other's company. Alfie understood her in a way that she hadn't been familiar with. It was a blessing to share affections with the one you admired. Shaking her head to get back to her essay, she let go of any shame, discomfort, or embarrassment that included James Sirius Potter. It was time to move on.

**A/N: As shown in this chapter, I think every now and then there will be a new POV to show how James S. Potter's love life is affecting others. To caroline (Guest), thank you for your review! I promise you that what you feared will ****_not _****take place. I didn't want the other girls to feel neglected or become "Lavenders" that are too clingy. Enjoy your summer, readers!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, presently or past, as that solely belongs to Ms. J.K. Rowling.**

**A/N: I apologize for the late update! I'm terrible, I know. I might not be able to update as often as I'm going on vacation really soon, but I'm working on the chapters day and night. I hope you enjoy, readers! Please review.**

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Chapter 4

"Harry, something's wrong with James. You have to go up and check."

"I'm pretty sure he's fine, Gin, it's not like he's a baby." The Potters were relaxing blissfully at home, taking advantage of their last week with their kids before they were off at Hogwarts. Ginny sat on the couch, with Harry's head in her lap. Before, she combed through his messy mop but now pushed him off. Landing with an impressive _thud_, Harry dutifully went up to his oldest son's room.

Feeling nervous, Harry suddenly recalled being a teenager. After all this time finding Horcruxes, or saving the world by being an Auror, he had forgotten his wonderful hormonal years. It couldn't have been Quidditch that was the matter, as James was absolutely raving about Gryffindor's spectacular victories. It couldn't have been his classes at Hogwarts, as James had passed with flying colors and could continue on any path he so desired. It couldn't have been his friends, as he and Frank never took more than an hour to apologize. Then it struck Harry. Of course! Chuckling, he knocked on the door.

"Come in," said a muffled voice from inside. Taking this as a sign to remember, Harry stepped in his son's room. It was bright, covered almost entirely with Gryffindor banners and posters. A giant Lion's head (a gift from Auntie Luna, for James's twelfth birthday) hung over the mahogany bureau and roared every now and then. In the middle of the room, was a four-poster bed occupied by a very melancholy sixteen-year old boy.

Sitting up, James saw his father and patted on the seat next to him. Harry, sitting down, asked, "What's the matter, James? How're you doing?"

James snorted. "Fine." He reached for the open butterbeer bottle and took a long, satisfying swig of the ginger drink.

Raising an eyebrow, Harry slyly asked, "Any girls caught your eye?"

Choking, James spluttered, "How-how-how did you know?"

"Man's intuition."

"Man's intuition, my butt, Dad. Mum sent you up here, didn't she?"

"Yes, but I figured it out. I was a teenager myself, you know. I had girl issues myself, as did Uncle Ron, as did Uncle George, Uncle Percy, Uncle Charlie, Uncle Bill, and so far on. Teddy had girl issues. Albus probably is having girl issues, but will come for my advice when he is ready. I'm quite _sure _your male cousins have girl issues themselves. It's natural. So come on, don't be a prat and suffer in silence."

Seeing that his father had a point, James sighed dramatically. "Dad, have you ever _really _liked this girl, and you would do anything for her to give you a chance? Like, she'll claim you're too immature, or she'll act disgusted when you ask her out? And then, when you suck it up, mature up and ask her to a simple dance, she'll act surprised and then shout out a rather humiliating rejection which includes the reasons for that unbecoming no." He had said this in a defeated tone, staring listlessly at the ceiling.

Ah. Harry stayed quiet, too, thinking. Moments later, he answered, "I have had experiences where I've really liked this one girl. I would have done anything for her to be mine. But she was my best mate's girl. That was my main complication." James soaked that in, understanding that his father was referring to that mess in _his _sixth year, including Uncle Ron and Mum.

Harry began to chuckle, with James looking at him questioningly. "See, your problems are in the same boat with how _my _dad handled my mum. Grandpa James was a prankster, like you. He loved a laugh, jokes, clever plans and always wanted to be in action. Grandma Lily was more focused on her schoolwork and the welfare of others. You see, your granddad loved your grandma ever since their fifth year, but she believed that he was too arrogant and too cocky. They didn't start going out until he matured in seventh year."

James glumly replied, "Did Grandmum Lily ever reject Granddad James so harshly that his heart nearly broke, went out with a total bloke _knowing _of her future husband's feelings, and yet carry on as if The Incident never happened?" His eyes glazed over his banners. Harry was beginning to feel quite worried. He knew that James really fancied this girl, but never expected him to take it so personally. Then he chastised himself. James was a teenager! An innocent, bloody ordinary teenager who lived a very similar life to any heartbroken teenager in history.

"I don't know too much about my parents' tangled love lives," Harry began. "But I do know that it started out quite difficult. It was different for them, too. They had the First Wizarding War involving Voldemort, and these things were rushed and urgent. But you, James Sirius Potter, have it differently. You have all the time in the world. And bloody believe it or not, she _will _fall for you. I know it." James rolled his eyes. His father had no idea how stubborn Gemma could be.

Harry noticed and swatted his son on the forehead. "You'll see someday, birdbrain. What's this girl's name, anyways?"

"Gemma, Gemma Ross Wood. She's in my year and House, and also a Chaser on the Quidditch team. Pretty swanky player, too. She's got these big, hazel eyes that pop out and-and-and this dark hair that just looks so soft-and-and the greatest smile and yeah." James adopted a goofy grin on his face. His heart began to melt all over again.

Harry whistled. "She must be related to Oliver Wood. He was the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team when I first joined. A bit _too _passionate at times, but a superb player. He went on to play for Puddlemere United. You've got yourself a swell girl, James. Don't give up. You've matured a lot this past summer. She'll see and will be begging for you." Ruffling his son's messy hair, Harry left the room with James deep in thought.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, presently or past, as that solely belongs to Ms. J.K. Rowling.**

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Chapter 5

"Alright, Potters! James, have you got your Quidditch robes? Lily, stop tugging on your bangs, they're _fine. _James, please stop poking your brother. Albus Severus Potter, _if I see you making that obscene gesture at your brother again, I will personally hex you to meet your doom._" Ginny Potter, in the simplest way possible, was stressed to the max. It was September 1, the glorious beginning to a promising year at Hogwarts. Summer was still here, clinging desperately to its warm climate as the Potter family made their way through King's Cross train station. The platforms were packed, congested, overstuffed. Completely oblivious Muggles chattered and grumbled nonstop through the roars of the trains, unaware that people were crossing the barrier of Platform 9 ¾.

As the Potters crossed the barrier, James winced. He was mentally preparing himself for the many looks that would come their way to Mr. Harry Potter. Lily, who was holding his arm, clutched hard and their eyes met. She, too, was holding it in to be strong.

James predicted correctly. Most Wizarding families who were war-heroes were already quite familiar by Harry's appearance and waved airily. The newer families, with excited and impressionable first-years in tow, stole glances and whispers of the famous "Chosen One." But when James started his first year, the whispers and the stolen glances were louder and much more visible. Everyone wanted a glimpse of Harry Potter's eldest son; "Ooh, Mummy, look! That boy over there, he's Harry Potter's son!" "Did you hear? That boy over there? Yeah, he's Harry Potter's oldest son." "Is he really named after Harry Potter's dad and godfather? Wow." Over time, James adjusted but it pained him as Albus and Lily joined. He suspected Albus had it the worse, being "blessed/cursed" to be the spitting image of their dad, minus the lightning-shaped scar.

"Oi, Potter! Is that any way to treat a fellow?" James instinctively turned to see a flushed and smirking Scorpius Malfoy strolling leisurely toward Al. His blonde hair was ruffled and uncombed, contrasting greatly to his father's sleek, slick mop. Shirt tucked out with his Gryffindor tie hanging loosely around his neck, the girls nearby turned to eye him rather hungrily. Biting back a laugh, James entertained himself by imagining the look on Rose's face when she saw that "idiotic bimbo club" fawning over Scorpius.

It was still a bit of a shock to see any member of the Malfoy family getting along with any Potter, Weasley, etc. for any logical magical folk. Despite the Second Wizarding War cleaning the grime of prejudice against any drop of Muggle blood, it remained a rather awkward situation between the Malfoys and the Weasleys. Although Draco had made an effort to apologize for his antagonizing behavior during school (and the apology accepted), not much of an effort to reach out and physically become friends had happened. When Al, Rose, and Scorpius had started, nobody had expected _Scorpius Malfoy _to be a Gryffindor. As far as anyone could remember, the Malfoy bloodline had been Sorted into Slytherin for centuries. The Great Hall was met by a stunned silence as they watched a pale, blond boy shuffle slowly to the Gryffindor table. It was only when Albus and Rose were also Sorted into Gryffindor that the noise seemed to have broken a metaphorical Silencing charm in the Great Hall. Since that moment, those three legacy children became great friends, healing the uncertain rift between two long lines of Wizarding families.

Rose came fumbling, caught by her brother, Hugo, before she could trip and unintentionally maim herself (once again). Her wild red hair was tamed back into a messy bun, with her blue eyes tired and fierce. Grinning, she hugged her cousins and a blushing Scorpius. "How've you been, Scorpius? Al, you're in for it. Big. Time."

Seeing that Al was too occupied with the looming threat of Rose Weasley's temper and Lily was nowhere to be found, James grabbed his trunks.

"Bye, Mum. Don't gain any weight; remember that you're only a lowly _Daily Prophet _Quidditch column writer, not an elite Quidditch player. Ouch, Mum, aggressive much?" Ginny hugged her oldest son tightly, and grinned. He was taller than her by a foot and a half now, she realized. Her little Jamie was growing so fast. Turning before he could see her growing tears, she then began to badger Hugo about the state of his robes.

Harry waited behind his wife and embraced James. This was a real goodbye, man-to-man. He whispered in his ear, "I meant what I said before. Don't lose hope, James. She'll come through and if not, you can always ask Aunt Hermione or Uncle George to brew up some sort of love potion." Snorting, James accepted his father's hope encouragingly. Maybe this would be the year.

"I'm telling you mates, the Chudley Cannons _will _come on top. I'm feeling lucky this time." James rolled his eyes and stretched rather uncomfortably, seeing the overwhelming amount of people in the compartment aboard the Hogwarts Express. It was filled with a mix of Gryffindors, ranging from any year: Fred II, Roxanne, Dominique and Louis Weasley; Frank; Angus and Fionnoula Finnigan. It was only twelve o'clock, and the trolley hadn't even passed by. Probably the overeager first-and-second years pigging their faces out, leaving nothing good for the upperclassmen.

Fionnoula moved uncomfortably next to James, her sandy hair flipping into his eyes. "I don't know about that, Fred. I'm pretty sure the Tornadoes will crush them, 600-20, as usual," Fionnoula replied. She had a fire in her eyes, the spark matching her precious badges: the infamous Tornadoes badge, accompanied to an equally shiny Prefect badge. James shuddered to think of the authority this held over him.

Her twin, Angus, snorted. "There's no competition, mate. Game's in the bag." He smirked confidently at the indignant Fred. He wiggled his eyebrows at Dominique, who smacked his thigh in response. His efforts at charming the one-sixteenth vela was a fail, as usual.

Fred spluttered, looking for support. "C'mon Weasleys, back me up. Roxy, Dom?"

"Sorry, older brother, you're on your own," Roxanne monotonously replied, far more interested in _Witch Weekly _with Dominique than stick up for her brother. Fred, barely gripping a life support beam, looked toward Louis for help. He shrugged carelessly, slouching next to his older sister. Scowling, Fred turned hopelessly toward Dominique, who answered in turn by re-applying her signature bright pink lipstick.

Before James could try to save his cousin, the glass sliding door and James's mouth opened.

"Sorry for bothering you lot, but every other compartment is full. Mind if I join you?" Everyone but James nodded amiably as Gemma Wood entered and plopped next to Fionnoula, who turned and they began chattering only as best friends could. While Fred and Angus debated over the depressingly unlikely statistics of the Chudley Cannons winning the league, James studied Gemma. It was quite strange for her to enter the compartment alone, especially without the tow of Mr. Pretty-Boy Alfie Thomas. While her attractive features were still intact, her fists were clenched and white, accompanied by heavy eyes. The usual crackling spark was fading, and was now slightly red at the edges of the cornea. He frowned slightly; had she been crying? Scrutinizing her body language carefully, James mused that Gemma hadn't let out a waterfall, but had stopped herself from doing so. Her right leg was bouncing rapidly, suggesting that she may have been anxious. But what for? Debating on whether to pry or not, James almost did not catch her snapping at him.

"Potter, if you're going to be staring, y'might as well bring your camera. You can have me snapping at you in film _and _on the train." Shaking his head, he found the electricity crackling dangerously in those haunting hazel eyes.

Ruffling his hair nervously, James replied, "Sorry, Wood, I didn't mean to be staring." Embarrassed, he ducked his head to cover the burning red spreading through his cheeks. He wasn't surprised that she caught him. Gemma had always been exceptionally observant, and he supposed he seemed a bit unhinged, staring at her in the open. But what surprised himself the most was the lack of a witty comeback at her snap, and her failure to reply to his humble reaction.

He was in her mind, still. It was infuriating, frustrating, and even more distracting than Lily's nonsensical chatter filling her ears. Alice nodded and tried to participate in her best friend's animated conversation with Hugo Weasley (Lily's cousin and another of Alice's close friends), but failed miserably. She stared out the window, wondering which compartment James Sirius Potter could be found and whether or not he truly was over Gemma Wood. As they passed by an impossibly green forest, she caught hints of the native reddish-brown dirt. Wistfully, she recalled a similar color, usually ruffled by incredibly muscular hands…

"AH!" Lily looked up in shock, her endless chatter broken by Alice's outburst.

"Gee, Alice, I didn't realize my lively debate with Hugo over Quidditch statistics of the Gryffindor team could be so lackluster." Her cross expression showcased her emotions altogether; it was the "_I am Lily Luna, and I am not impressed." _On any other occasion, Alice might have laughed at her best friend's retaliations but not today. He didn't even pay her much attention, as usual…

_Although it was a simply gorgeous day to start school, in Alice's opinion, it was positively dreadful. Neville was at school already, preparing for the Sorting of the incoming first years. Hannah had dropped Frank and her off, kissing them goodbye as she went back to work at the Leaky Cauldron. The Longbottoms were walking down the Hogwarts Express, trying to find their respective mates._

_ While her older brother was searching for his sixth year friends, Alice snuck covert looks. Of course for Lily and Hugo, but in the back of her mind, she was searching for James. It gave her goose bumps whenever she thought of meeting him on the train. Frantically, she worried that James was so far down that she had missed him. She couldn't have missed him! If she did, she would never have a decent excuse to say hello in that way she had practiced for days._

_ Frank suddenly smiled. "Hey mate. How have you been?" Turning slowly in Frank's direction, her stomach gave a huge jolt as she saw the carefree, familiar smirk of James Sirius Potter walking toward them. Wearing his maroon Weasley sweater and crisp jeans, it showed his lean and fit physique. His reddish-brown mop was ruffled and wind-swept and as usual, fringed his amber eyes mischievously. Her chest began to pound rather rapidly. Was he always this tall or had she shrank this summer?_

_ James grinned. Punching Frank lightly on the shoulder, he said, "I'm always amazing, Longbottom. You needn't ask, I just am. Oh, hey Alice. Lily's five compartments down, to the right." And with that greeting, James and Frank walked down the train and entered the nearest compartment to their left. _

_ Alice was left alone in the middle of the hallway. No, this did not just happen. James Potter came to pick her _brother _up, barely said any word to her other than where his sister was, and left before she could even say "hi." Leaning against the wall for support, Alice closed her eyes. She was not going to give in and cry. She wouldn't dare. But she was about to break, it was going to pour for hours and-_

_ "ALICE AUGUSTA LONGBOTTOM, you have certainly been pushing my very short temper!" Looking up, Alice saw the familiar red waves of Lily Luna Potter. A small smile formed on Alice's face. Walking toward her best friend, she tried to push any feelings toward James Potter away. It wouldn't do her any good to cry, especially on the Hogwarts Express._

Alice still hadn't shed a tear. She intended to keep it that way. Lily had no idea whatsoever of her best friend's growing feelings toward her eldest brother. It would be extremely awkward for Lily to know. She impulsively would pounce on telling James. And who in the name of Merlin's left buttocks knew how he would respond to that? No, it would be left best for this secret to stay a secret.

Shaking her head, she registered what Lily was talking about. "I'm fine, it was just, um, a wicked pinch I accidentally gave myself. Just the usual." As usual. Lily gave her the once-over and rolled her eyes. She then pounced on an unsuspecting Hugo, who had begun to look immensely relieved when Lily verbally attacked Alice.

Chuckling to herself, Alice once again stared out the window. This was going to be a long year.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, presently or past, as that solely belongs to Ms. J.K. Rowling.**

**A/N: I'm baack! Well, sort of. I apologize to all readers, as I was on a very fun vacation and was unable to post. I might not be able to next week, as I'm going on another trip. But enjoy this one, please! Reviews are appreciated, as *always***

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Chapter 6

Gemma sighed inwardly as the Hogwarts Express continued strolling onward as usual, chugging merrily through the wonderful weather. The clouds had parted, leaving the sun to be showcased and it took advantage of that, flaunting its teasing rays of light. Wind blew around, the cool breeze lightly kissing exposed skin. Nonetheless, it improved everyone's mood.

Of course, everyone except Gemma. While Fionnoula chattered on, Gemma nodded only to keep everyone's eyes off her. It was bad enough that James Potter had noticed, and worse that she had snapped back at him. He didn't look affronted, just embarrassed for being rude. But she had set up fierce mental barriers to protect herself from prying eyes and well-known gossipers (_hem, hem Periwinkle Brown_). And it was mostly of out nervous panic that Gemma snapped. She had to stay strong, before anyone could touch a sensitive nerve. And so, while everyone minded their own lives, laughing at their friends' ridiculous antics, snorted at stupidity, she stayed quiet, blushed, and continued to ignore the curiously worried eyes of the boy near her.

"Look, you lot, we're here. Better make a move before those third-years cause a stampede." Angus's voice broke James's train of thought, and he shook himself to get rid of the fog. All of the girls had left to change into their Hogwarts school uniform, leaving the boys to clumsily try to straighten their ties. The sixth year boys yawned and made a move to get off the train.

Frank walked out with James, frowning all of a sudden. James asked, "It wasn't just me who noticed Gemma's mood, right?" He worried himself silly the entire train ride. Gemma was avoiding James's eye especially as she left their compartment with Fionnoula in tow. It was one thing to ignore James out of annoyance, but it was an entirely different matter with her puffy red eyes devoid of their crackling electricity.

"Nah, mate. Everyone noticed, 'cept you were the only one who got caught. I saw Thomas walked around snootier than usual. They must have had some sort of row." Feeling uncharacteristically happier, James lost most of the worry and began walking with his usual strut. His confidence boosted, and he felt closer to the day Gemma would say yes.

They walked into the nearest carriage. It was empty, a rare and lucky occurrence as the younger students tended to board rather quickly. Soon, Angus and Louis joined them, followed closely (and unfortunately) by Periwinkle Brown and Chandra Patil. Groaning inwardly as Periwinkle scooted skin-touching close to him, James shuddered as she whispered, "Hi James. Fancy seeing _you _here." Her honeysuckle perfume made him gag a bit, his eyes slightly watering. She twirled a curl of blonde hair, and fluffed the rest. Chandra giggled, and tried to discreetly hike up her already short skirt. Giving her and Chandra the once-over, he shuddered to see them wearing Gryffindor t-shirts cut in a rather revealing design that he would have liked to erase from his memory.

James was aware of the "fan-club" that fawned over him. It was expected, really. James knew that being a top Quidditch player added in to their "undying" infatuations. He was in great shape, inherited both his parents' good looks, and had an infamous reputation as one of the school's leading pranksters. It was funny and made for a great laugh for James and Frank when the fourth and fifth year girls would try to act coy and nonchalant as he passed by, but the minute his back was turned, shrieks of "He actually looked my way!" and "See, I _told you_! Jess, he totally is in love with me!" would implode. On other days, when the joke had lost its amusing potential, girls would flock him and prevent him from going to the library.

Maybe that's another reason why he liked Gemma so much. She didn't have an annoying, girly infatuation with him. She didn't giggle in that fake, coy way girls usually did. In fact, she was utterly repulsed by him! But still, sighing as Chandra batted her mascara-smudged eyelashes; it would have been nice to see her have _some _interest.

Before the carriages could take off, someone's hand blocked their door. It was Alfie Thomas, freshly tanned and hair windswept so perfectly it might have been deliberate, and Gemma, holding his other hand. He saw two empty seats (James suddenly noticed the seats, which were opposite his own), and let her in first. She climbed in rather reluctantly, looking anywhere and at anyone but James. His stomach churned. Did he do something to make her uncomfortable? Pondering on this, he carefully looked away from the rocky couple. Looking around, he realized the other inhabitants in the carriage were, too, silently looking away.

As the carriages started, the awkward silence persisted until Louis coughed and said, "So, anybody ready for N.E.W.T. preparation cramming?" James turned to give his cousin a glare. _Really, Louis? Bringing up N.E.W.T.s? _His glare seemed to say. James's blond cousin shrugged and began tapping his foot at patchy intervals, fingering his Prefect badge.

Mutters broke and Angus said, "Well, I did okay on me O.W.L.s. Better than me dad did on his, but okay all the same. I want to work for Gringotts, you know, curse-breaking and all. Sounds like an interestin' career." Running his hands through his sandy colored hair, he looked around defiantly, as if expecting a fight.

Periwinkle turned to him. "Ooh, curse-breaking! That sounds absolutely amazing! Maybe I should look into it." She turned away from James and winked at Angus. Her pink eye-shadow, perhaps meant to compliment her light brown eyes, instead gave the impression of a a makeup-obsessed owl. Fidgeting at once, Angus nervously scooted as far away from her as possible. She huffed in defeat, once again scooting closer to James.

Clearing his throat and sitting straighter, Alfie Thomas said boldly, "I'm aiming for top politics. Magical Law Enforcement, in my opinion, is the most influential department at the Ministry. From there, I'll work my way up and finally land being Minister of Magic. With my O.W.L.s, I'm sure that _that _won't be a problem." He sat back down, probably feeling mighty pleased with him. Smirking, he put his arm around Gemma and wiggled his eyebrows. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, firmly staring away from her boyfriend.

James snorted. The tension between them was so thick, it was almost laughable. Unfortunately, it was a rather boisterous snort, which meant the entire carriage occupants could hear. Their heads slowly turned toward him, slowly comprehending how the recipient of the insulting snort would react. Alfie, glaring stonily at James, snapped, "Yes, Potter? Wanted something to add to this enlightening conversation?" The pretty boy's eyes narrowed and his shoulders tensed, as if itching for a duel. His hands clenched so tight, the whites of his veins could be seen.

James ruffled his hair and grinned. He wasn't in the mood to duel, but he was feeling strangely calm and confident. "Yeah, I actually did want to add something. You see, I too want to enter Magical Law Enforcement. And of course," James suddenly adopted his Uncle Percy's tone when speaking of his highly coveted position in the Ministry. "These will open doors for me, and opportunities that many a wizard can only dare to dream will pave a path. The deeply coveted day will come when I, James Sirius Potter, will become," At this point, James's tone became wistful and full of awe. Truthfully, he wanted to become a professional Quidditch player or Auror, but rising Alfie's temper was a fun sport. "I will become…the Minister of Magic." Frank stifled a laugh. He knew where this was going. Smirking, James nudged Frank in the ribs and right then and there, Frank Longbottom officially lost it.

As he howled hysterically with laughter, Alfie Thomas clenched his teeth and said, 'Listen, Potter, and you listen well, my dear prat."

Leaning back into his seat with an air of self-awareness of his achievements, James still played along in that pompous tone, "Yes, Mr. Thomas?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gemma looking wearily at the both of them. She put her hand, as if stating a warning and his shoulder loosened a bit. He lost the fire in his stance.

"Just...Just lay off." That was that, and so Alfie just leaned his head on Gemma's shoulder. Finally, all of the carriages had stopped and students were jumping out of their seats to begin the march to Hogwarts.

Leaving the carriage, the occupants scrambled to follow the rather hectic lines lead by the newly appointed Head Boy and Head Girl. James could see Lily's bright red hair bobbing excitedly to a bored looking Hugo and an oddly glum Alice Longbottom. James raised an eyebrow. He couldn't quite place a finger on it, but Alice had been acting quite unusually out of character. Her bubbly and spunky personality seemed to have deflated a bit since the few times they had met over the summer. Whenever he was there, her cheeks reddened and her eyes seemed to lack her unique spark. Confused, James shook his head and moved on. Whatever her problem was, he would confront it later. Right now, he would focus on nothing more, nothing less than his sixth year at Hogwarts.

As they neared the front steps leading up to the Great Hall, someone tapped his shoulder. Surprised, he turned and found Gemma alone, without the company of pretty boy Alfie Thomas or Fionnoula Finnigan. James met Frank's eyes and he nodded, tactfully speeding up to walk with Angus and Louis. Her eyes were bright, the crackle dutifully lighting the flecks of gold and green. Her lips were a soft but romantic red, and fixed in a nervous stance. Her hair, dark as ever, was pinned in that messy but chic braid that James loved so much. Gosh, she looked so nice. She looked so pretty. No, that wasn't the proper word. Lovely. Gemma looked lovely.

"Erm, uh, hi." James winced. _Really James, _he cursed inwardly. _Stay calm, stay cool. You have this under control. _But this was what Gemma did to him. Just her being, well, she made his insides melt and his heart pump ten times faster than anything else in this world.

Gemma ignored his otherwise feeble attempt. She carried on, walking at his pace. Hesitantly, she opened her mouth and steadied herself as she began to speak. "Listen, Potter, erm, James." She took a deep breath, as if summoning some courage. "I know that we haven't exactly got along very well together. It's always a back and forth, a bickering of sorts whenever we meet up. But it's the beginning of a new year, and I figured it would be pretty useless to continue that." She paused, as if waiting for a response.

"So we're not going to be on-off buddies anymore?" James heard himself say. To his immense relief, Gemma laughed. They entered the Great Hall. Everyone went to sit at their respective tables, already chatting merrily. As they reached the Gryffindor table, she continued from before. "I figured that we should just bury our, well, differences and just be…friends." She looked hopefully into his expression. He couldn't believe it. Heart pounding, memories and flashes of all the times he bugged her about being his girlfriend and of all the times she shouted no in various scenarios. Her rather colorful past rejections, snarky replies, and harsh comebacks flittered all around his mind.

James didn't know how to respond. Yes, this was a great step up from an unrequited love but it seemed like that was all Gemma wanted to be for now. His insides felt as though they vanished. Friends. This was like asking for that special broomstick you've always wanted and on Christmas Day, you receive it with only half the features intact. Friends. Barely speaking normally, he choked out, "Um, yeah. Yeah, that would be great. Friends." It was like watching someone else live. Smiling, Gemma said, "Thanks. I need to catch up with Fionnoula and Lilith. I'll see you around…James." She walked away without looking back, James's eyes following her all the way. James should be happy. He _felt _like this would've made him happy. But it just made him feel so much more awkward than from before, especially as he saw Alfie squeeze in between Fionnoula and Gemma. That should be _James, _not that pretty boy Thomas. He would treat Gemma the way she deserved, not by some pompous player who would break her heart sooner or later…Gemma would surely come to her senses…

"James! We're over here!" Shaking his head back in reality, he saw Frank waving over to the _other _side of the table. Walking back, he sat in the saved seat.

"What did Gemma want?" Shaking his head (_I'll tell you later_), Frank sighed and patted him on the back. He understood. The other guys, thankfully, kept up their antics until Professor Longbottom made his way to the stool, which seated the infamous Sorting Hat. The sixth years smirked knowingly as the nervous first years made their way, tittering and pushing.

Angus poked James in the ribs. "When are Quidditch tryouts, Potter? I hear that you need a new Keeper, seeing as Robbie Peakes already left." He inwardly groaned. How had he forgotten? Forgetting his inhibitions about Gemma, he began panicking at how Gryffindor would play without a Keeper.

"I'm thinking maybe a week from today. You Keep?"

"Been Keeping for me, Fionnoula, me cousin Aidan, all the way across the Finnigan family tree. I figured, why not?" He sat back in his seat, feeling confidence. If he hadn't accidentally lit his robe sleeves on fire, James would have definitely considered the possibilities. Chuckling, he turned to watch the first years get Sorted.

"Broderick, Jocasta!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Butler, Trudy!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Chapman, Owen!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

On and on, a seemingly endless group of first years were Sorted. By the time, "Zabini, Bella!" was Sorted into Slytherin, McGonagall stood up and said, "To honor Former Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's fondness for short welcoming speeches, 'Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

Laughing, the Great Hall began at once to dig into the delicious feasts. All James could see was mountains of steak and kidney pies, chicken rolls, and treacle tarts. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his Weasley cousins wolfing down their dinners. Hugo, amusingly, was talking and eating at the same time, a chicken wing in both hands. Roxanne had finished two bowls of soup and was now contentedly on her third, seemingly challenged by her brother. All of them had inherited the Weasley appetite, rivaled only by the cooking of Nana Molly.

"Who do you think'll be the Head Boy next year?" Louis asked, drinking pumpkin juice with a satisfying belch.

Frank shrugged, scratching his head. "Definitely not me. I've got my dad's abysmal memory. I'll probably end up forgetting I even was Head Boy." His round cheeks reddened as he scrambled around in his pockets. James snorted, and looked at Professor Longbottom. He was searching through his pockets for a few moments, and then lightly tapped himself on the head while reaching for a small packet on the table right in front of him. Genius.

The sixth years made their way through the entire feast, McGonagall's boring entrance speech, all the way as they sluggishly walked back to their common room. Louis, being the good little boy he was, went straight up to his dormitory, along with Angus and Frank. James, instead, stayed in the common room, resting on his favorite couch. It would be nice to appreciate his last homework-free night while he could. The first years, excited little berks they were, giggled nervously and fiddled around their new living quarters. The second years acted as if they were too old for that childish behavior, and followed the third and fourth years to their respective dormitories. Looking around, he thought he saw Gemma's dark hair flip through the closing portrait hole, but it must have been his overactive imagination. _My goodness. Even when the girl's not here, she's in your mind. Get it together, Potter. _

"No Lily, you go up. I'm a bit tired. I'll just stay down here for a kip." James turned his head around to find his Alice Longbottom groaning as she plopped on the floor, facing the ceiling. Lily's distinctive hair flipped as she skipped upstairs. Grinning a bit, he jumped onto the couch opposite Alice and stuck his head inches from hers. "Why, HELLO there, Alice! I haven't seen _you _in a long time!"

"GAH!" Alice's pale cheeks tinged a strange but endearing orange blush. Her freckles disappeared and she sat up suddenly, tugging on her ponytail. Self-conscious, she gave James the finger.

Chortling, James said, "That never gets old."

"Maybe not to _you. Git._" Alice returned to her usual bubbly self, staring into his eyes with a pinch more defiance than necessary.

"Ooh, I'm wounded! But that's a bit used, darling. Get better comebacks."

"Really, James? Darling? Be serious."

"Fine then, _honey_. And what are you talking about? My name's James, last time I checked." Rolling her eyes, Alice went back to lying on the floor. Her cheeks once again went back to that orange blush, James noted. Her eyes seemed a bit downcast, looking anywhere but at James. Her hands constantly tugged on the loose strands of hair framing her face. Was she…nervous?

Frowning, James remembered that she seemed upset earlier as well. Meaning to ask her what was wrong, he opened his mouth. "Alice, is everything alright?"

Startled, she stuttered, "Yes-yes, everything is completely fine. Why do you ask?"

"You just seem a bit off lately. Do you want to talk about it? I'm always here for you, Allie. Consider me your surrogate brother." He had sincerely meant what he said. The Longbottoms were as close to his family as he was related to the Weasleys. If some stupid prat bothered Lily or Albus, Frank would punch the living daylights out of them along with James. If some bug pestered Alice, he would march right up to the git and stand his ground. Blood or not, he wanted to know what Alice's problem was. He smiled that goofy smile that always seemed to make her laugh, but instead, her expression darkened.

"Right. Another dear brother of mine," Alice replied, a touch of bitterness in her tone. Before James could decipher that cryptic message, his best mate's sister got up. Walking to her dormitory, she turned and smiled. "Goodnight, surrogate brother. Keep it real." Waving goodnight, she disappeared into the night.

Listening to Lily's unladylike snores, Alice huddled in her blankets as she stared glumly into the darkness. She was furious with herself. Livid. Aggravated. Frustrated. James had _willingly _been concerned for her well-being. He was sweet to the core, ready and welcome to listen. His fist had clenched, as if gearing up for a fight to beat the crap out of any bully that bothered her.

She loved that he cared about her, really. For a moment, she had thought he saw her more than Frank's little sister, or Lily's best friend. But of course not. _Surrogate brother. _How ridiculous. Alice snorted. If only the idiot could see what she thought about that! Had it even _occurred _to him that she thought of him as so much more than that? But then again, as she wryly glanced at Lily, the Potters were never too quick to pick up on other people's emotional thoughts.

Gemma Wood was not a perfect, shining example of what a star Hogwarts student should exemplify, despite the constant protests from her colorful and bold best friends. They insisted (Fionnoula especially) that she should have gotten the prefect badge. She would not settle for anything less than an E on her assignments, would practice her arse off to catch the Quaffle in perfect formation, and would never even consider breaking curfew. But most certainly, Gemma Wood would never be caught dead sneaking a walk with her boyfriend to the Black Lake, _especially _on the first day back at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry. She considered herself to be above the temptations of boys. She was levelheaded.

She especially couldn't believe she even let Alfie convince her to. But he was so sweet about it, kissing her softly on the lips while holding her hand. He gave her that puppy dog look, and of course she couldn't say no. It was completely irresistible. Besides, it was their sixth year. Loads of homework would be given, and who knew when they would be given another moment to be alone? Sneaking through the halls of Hogwarts at night gave Gemma a thrill in her stomach, a feeling she wasn't used to. But she ignored it, focusing on Alfie's smile.

"So," Alfie grinned mischievously. "Glad to have agreed, then?" She was leaning into his shoulder, admiring the cool serenity of the Black Lake. Alfie had his arm wrapped protectively around her, keeping her warm from the breeze.

"Oh, I don't know yet. You see, I'm surprised we haven't got caught yet." She snuggled deeper. It wasn't really that cold, but she was glad to have an excuse to be so close to Alfie. He smirked in reply. Before she could move her head ever so slightly to kiss him, he frowned.

"Look, we need to talk."

"Why?" Now Gemma frowned. Alfie had promised a romantic evening, but right now, the romance was lacking.

"I don't understand why you insist upon me being nice to that Potter. He obviously has no restrictions set by you." Gemma groaned. _This again? _It had started out as a friendly suggestion in their empty compartment, but the suggestion turned into a heated argument with Gemma raging at Alfie. He accused Gemma of perhaps fancying James Potter, which she found utterly ridiculous. Was it _wrong _to want to cut James some slack? She knew that he liked her, but seeing that broken look in his eyes still haunted her. Which was why she wanted to make it up to him by suggesting they become friends as they made their way to the Great Hall. But it seemed to make everything worse. James was obviously shocked. He spluttered and uttered a meek response, then stood like he was stuck. Gemma's suggestions didn't seem to help anybody.

"But," Alfie continued. "I see that I was wrong to make those apparently inflammatory statements before in the compartment." Looking at him incredulously, Gemma's mouth was hanging. "I see that although James Potter fancies you dreadfully, it's apparent that you don't reciprocate those feelings. And I am willing to make an effort to be nice to him; in spite of the fact that he thinks he is competition." He leaned down to kiss her, but Gemma put her hand on his mouth. Looking into his alluring eyes, she searched for any sign of deceit. There weren't any.

She giggled, then let go. All the more serious, Gemma said, "You have no idea how happy that makes me. He's already upset by the fact that, well, I'm with someone else and he needs to be treated right. You're such a good boyfriend, Alfie." And with that note, Alfie grinned proudly as he leaned once again to kiss his girlfriend. She didn't pull away.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, presently or past, as that world solely belongs to Ms. J.K. Rowling.**

**A/N: I'm baaaaack! I apologize now for the late update of this chapter. School has started and I hope you can all be understanding of the irregularity of the chapter updates. But hopefully, there is enough action to keep you all satisfied. Thank you all so much, and please enjoy!**

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Chapter 7

"Look at all the free periods I've got!" Frank said, elated. It was their second day back, and it was breakfast time. The Great Hall was bustling was energy, nausea, and possible symptoms of summer wishing. Owls could be seen flittering above everyone's heads, dropping letters, parcels of sweets and gifts, and bundles of _The Daily Prophet _and/or _The Quibbler_. Fourth years and under seemed innocent and cheerful. They giggled nervously, waved their wands wistfully, straightened out their robes. But for the bigger kids, it was the start of a sleepless year. O.W.L. year. N.E.W.T. year. As Professor Longbottom handed out their schedules, the sixth years reluctantly took them.

Roxanne sat down with a plunk next to James, and immediately grabbed a strip of bacon. "That's for finishing homework, Frankie. Silly little boy, you think the professors would actually give you those for fun time?" She chuckled and ruffled Frank's hair, mocking him.

His brows furrowed. "Ah. That makes much more sense." With a snort, Roxanne made space for Dominique and Fred to sit near her. Soon, the entire Gryffindor table was filled with unsuspecting sixth years shouting out their schedules. Angus groaned dramatically while leaning on Fionnoula's shoulder. Gemma patted Lilith Andrews's hair while trying not to laugh as Lilith stared in shock at her schedule. Alfie Thomas smirked and was polishing his wand.

James took this pause in turn to inspect his own schedule. Astronomy was a go, as was Care of Magical Creatures and Charms. Defense Against the Dark Arts, he happily noted, was a Double period. Transfiguration, Muggle Studies, Potions, Herbology, yikes… Like Frank, there were many free periods scattered across the six-day cycle. It hinted of miles of homework to do. Roxanne was right. Sixth year was terrifying.

Frank continued. "Well, Dad's pleased that I'm still going for Herbology and Transfiguration. He said he didn't make the cut for that class when McGonagall was teaching. Charms is a go. Astronomy, yes, Muggle Studies, check. Ooh, sorry mate. I don't have Potions anymore." Bashfully, he shrugged. Sadly, besides inheriting his father's memory, he unfortunately was, too, terrible at Potions. Slughorn, who hadn't taken Neville Longbottom for Potions, didn't know what to expect when his son Frank came along. However sad this made the old codger, it was a good laugh for James whenever Frank's potions exploded.

James lightly punched his mate on the shoulder. "Aw, come on Frank! You're leaving me alone with the walrus. Think, _mate_, about how your actions will affect _me_." He put up his best puppy-dog eyes and began to fake-sob hysterically. His racket, however hilarious, had attracted the attention of Headmistress McGonagall, who just so happened to be walking that way. Frowning sternly, she peered closely at the oldest Potter child, who abruptly stopped making noise the minute her hawk-like gaze met his.

"Whatever is the matter, Mr. Potter?"

James swallowed. Then, a grin reached his face. "Oh nothing, Professor. Just crying about the fact that my best mate is growing up." He tried for an innocent expression, but McGonagall had a knack for sorting out troublemakers.

"Ah," she nodded. "You would do best, too, Mr. Potter, if you also decided to grow up. Good day to you, Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom." And with that note, she turned and continued walking.

James walked toward Charms class, swearing colorfully under his breath. How many times did he have to tell the stupid Slughorn that he, in fact, _did not "attempt to sabotage Mr. Thomas's potion_"? Honestly! Alfie, unfortunately, was one of the students partnered at James's desk and was making little biting remarks pertaining to a certain someone's cringe-worthy love life. Trying to play nice, James concentrated on his potion for Gemma's sake and for his own. It was a complicated potion, with very specific instructions on the stirring and the exact minute breakdown of when the potion should turn a brilliant red or a soft shade of lilac. James knew he wasn't the best potion-maker and that the Outstanding he had received was sheer luck, but he needed the good marks from this class. At one point, he noticed that his toad spleens were missing and ever so politely did he turn to Fionnoula Finnigan and ask if she had any extras. When yes, she _did _have some, he took the amount needed and BANG! Purple smoke gathered across the room, with Alfie Thomas yelling his head off.

"_Evanesco. _My dear boy, what on earth is-AH!" For at that precious moment, Alfie Thomas's skin had literally turned purple. His fresh tan was gone. Slughorn had let out a little yelp, hastily coughing to hide it otherwise. The entire classroom was silent at first. But then, of course…they burst out laughing. Alfie no longer looked like the Pretty Boy he usually was. He growled in response but that only made everyone snigger harder.

Slughorn had somehow recovered from his ordeal and took a bezoar out from one of his pockets, handing it to Alfie. "Oh what on earth just happened, Mr. Thomas? Did you spill your potion?" James furrowed his brow. Alfie, meanwhile, was slowly turning back to his normal skin tone and took a deep breath.

"No," started Alfie. He looked over, strangely, at James and had the faintest of a smile. "No, Professor. You know me, I'm not that clumsy. As I was stirring my potion, James over here knocked it over with one swoop. On purpose." His expression was guarded but it didn't reach his eyes. His eyes were triumphant and vengeful as they studied James, who wasn't quite sure if he heard that correctly. _Really Alfie? Stooping that low? You foul, two-bit, bloody…_James thought a heavy stream of curses that would have even blown Peeves the Poltergeist away.

Slughorn turned uncomfortably to James, sensing a confrontation. Although James would have liked to punch Alfie right then and there, he figured it would only convince the old Potions Professor that he in fact _was _a hardened delinquent. After all, Slughorn was easily swayed by the matters and opinions of his favorite students and Alfie Thomas was his prized jewel. Once James had recovered from his colorful stupor, he argued his case while Pretty Boy Thomas shouted passionately otherwise. Slughorn had then assigned James zero marks _and _a detention Saturday to boot! _Merlin, _thought James. _Pretty Boy Thomas is in for it. _

James's stony expression persisted through as he made way to sit next to Frank in Charms. Thankfully, he wasn't late; otherwise he would have another detention under his belt and what would that get him? A Howler, no doubt, sent from his dear old mum. Frank shot him a concerned look and made a motion that they would pass notes. Professor Goldstein wouldn't notice; he was too busy professing love for his subject.

**Hey mate, what's with the potty expression? Did you manage to use the loo before entering Charms? (Concern inserted).**

_Alfie the stupid stoner. And that "potty" got old, Frankie Boy. Figured I might as well let you in on it. So fifth year._

**Ouch, touchy, touchy! Let me guess: malfunctioning potion? "Sabotaging an innocent student's work purely out of spite and dishonest intentions?" Merlin, did Slughorn ****_really _****say that? **

_I-well, really. Frankie Boy, however did you find out? I thought you were too "Dreadful" to take N.E.W.T. level Potions. Not that you'd want to._

**Heard it from Fionnoula.**

_Ooh, Frankie Boy, did she really? Did _the _beautiful, brassy, blonde bombshell known as Fionnoula Finnigan really?_

**Knock it off. Prick. **

_I'm so offended. My goodness, what a genius comeback maker we have here. (Insert sarcasm)._

**I told you, we're just friends. Besides, I've got my eye on someone else.**

_Is it me? Because I'm taken._

**Cheeky git. It's Dominique, of course! Stylish little Veela, that one.**

**_I'm flattered that you think my sister's arse is nice. I can't wait to tell her._**

_Since when did I give you permission to reply on this private parchment, Louis Augustus Weasley? _

**_Since the aforementioned private parchment flew completely over Frank's head and landed on my lap, James Sirius Potter. And I'm still laughing over that little incident in Potions. _**

_Mind you, Lou, it is James Sirius Potter the Second. Don't forget my official title. And thank you for defending me in Potions (not). That's what cousins are for._

**_Couldn't have phrased it better myself. And it wasn't just me who was laughing. Angus nearly wet himself. _**

**Look, this is a nice family reunion and all, but don't we have more pressing matters? Like, what will you do about it, James?**

_I'm thinking that maybe Pretty Boy Thomas needs a good scrubbing. Anyone care for a midnight prowl to revenge? Say, 11:00 tonight?_

**_Hm, can't. I've got a meeting with the other prefects and the Head Boy and the Head Girl. Then rounds with Fionnoula Finnigan. (Directed at Frankie Boy)_**

**Prat (Directed at Lulu). Yeah, James, I'm in.**

_Great. Meet me in the common room at ten, Frank._

"I'm sorry if I'm disturbing your enlightening conversation, boys, but as your future careers depend on this class, I suggest you put the parchment away and start taking notes." Professor Goldstein was examining the boys sternly over his notes from the podium. They nodded like the good boys they supposedly were, but internally, they each thought about bloody murder.

Gossip was a topic commonly found talked about with girls. It was usually about the scandalous things of cheating, a mysterious love letter, a broken heart, etc. At Hogwarts, it was no different. Girls, usually, were the culprits of gossiping. They slandered lies, deceived childlike ears, and would do anything vicious to harm their enemy.

Gemma considered herself above such petty things, which was something when you compared her to her crazy best friends. Take Fionnoula Finnigan. A pretty, sandy-haired girl with innocent doe-like brown eyes never seemed like the bold, brassy person she was. Or Lilith Andrews, for instance. Her blonde hair was perfectly straight and pulled together with a neat ribbon, always crisply dressed. But her appearance only hid a witty, sarcastic teenager who would insult you so fast, even the most confident person felt insecure.

For reasons unknown, Gemma thought about this while making her way down to the Great Hall for lunch. She shouldn't have been so preoccupied with pointless musing, as she already had a mountain of homework ahead of her. But it was the first day back and the halls had gone strangely quiet as _she_ walked through, examining her rather rudely. Feeling a bit invaded, she began to rush to the Great Hall to see what the big fuss was. _Honestly, _she thought to herself. _Gossip might as well be a subject here! _Finally at her destination, she headed straight for the Gryffindor table and saw Fionnoula and Lilith motioning frantically for her to come. Unfortunately for Gemma, she was quickly intercepted by Periwinkle Brown and Chandra Patil.

Gemma tried only to see the best in people, but as she met Periwinkle's heavily made up eyes, she found her principles breaking. Periwinkle (_what a stupid name_) was a bit of a…well, to be polite: a scarlet woman. She wore starry blue eye makeup, bright red lipstick, and heavy mascara; perhaps an effort to put the "classy" in "flashy", but ended up looking trashy. Her natural blonde hair was streaked and highlighted, always pulled back by crazy patterned headbands with little bows. Chandra wasn't so bad-looking, she was actually quite pretty with her dark hair and sparkly eyes. But looks aside, the two girls had a nasty reputation for a love of gossip. By the time they were in second year, their names were known all across the school, tainted so much that it was frightening. The smell of scandal drew them closer on a hunt, just like a bloodhound. It was sickening.

"Hi Gemma!" Periwinkle gleefully called. She hooked her arm through Gemma's as though they were best friends. Chandra smiled as well, though her eyes had a hungry look.

Gemma forced a smile. "Hi there, Periwinkle, Chandra. How are you?" She figured the faster this would go, the faster she could discuss her weird day with Fionnoula and Lilith.

Chandra simpered. "We were so sorry to hear about your boyfriend, Alfie. We heard earlier this morning, but we wondered whether _you _knew anything more about the matter." Her eyes flashed as she flipped a stray lock of hair. Periwinkle looked questioningly at Gemma as well.

Her heart was racing. What happened with Alfie? Was he hurt and lying close to death in the Hospital Wing? She pushed through the bimbos and sat down with a plunk next to Fionnoula, who was exasperated. "Really Gemma, could you have come any faster?" She rolled her eyes and slugged Gemma on the arm, who in turn gave her a wicked punch.

"Hey! I got held up by Periwinkle and Chandra. They asked me about Alfie's problem, which I don't know anything about!" Gemma shrieked, stressed already. Her mind spun uncontrollably. If Alfie was hurt, why didn't someone tell her? More importantly, was he hurt enough that he couldn't even bother asking someone to tell her?

Lilith reached over and patted her on the shoulder. "Look, Gemma, you're a hot mess. You shouldn't stress yourself like this. Merlin, by the state you're in, people would expect you were in labor." Her corny attempt at humor earned her a sharp glare from Fionnoula.

Fionnoula sighed. "Listen, it wasn't bad. I was there when it happened. And he didn't get hurt, if that is what's stressing you. See, in Potions…" She went on to explain the little incident between James Potter and Alfie in Potions class, which she had seen firsthand due to her giving James some ingredients. Halfway through her unbiased explanation, Fionnoula noticed that Gemma's outward expression was visibly calmer. A good sign, then. But what she couldn't notice was the electricity crackling in her eyes.

"I'm absolutely worn out, I can't do this anymore!" Frank's expression was aggravated as he stared at the blank piece of parchment in front of him. James shook his head exasperatedly as well, absentmindedly swirling his quill in the ink bottle. The two boys were in the Gryffindor common room, finishing the boatload of homework that they were blessed to have been given. It was unusually quiet, filled with students of all years studying (due to a certain Miss Rose Weasley threatening to curse anybody who disturbed her O.W.L. study session). Ah. The joys of a distraction-free room.

Louis, having finished all of his homework, yawned and peered over Frank's shoulder. "You know," he started. "I think I would be worn out too if I spent the better part of my day playing Exploding Snap instead of using the free periods wisely." Earning a glare, he shrugged. "If it's Transfiguration that's difficult, the answer is simple. Go bribe Rosie into doing it for you." They looked over at the frazzled Rose. She sat in the far corner of the room, muttering and highlighting her spell books while practicing wand-movements. Albus and Scorpius, forced to study as well, played wizard chess secretly when she wasn't looking. Her hair, already frizzy enough, held the impression that she was electrocuted recently.

Stifling a grin, James said, "Thanks, but no thanks. I don't think anyone is stupid enough to bother Rosie right now. That's suicidal, 'specially how she's becoming obsessed with acing her O.W.L.s." He smiled at the sight of his stressed cousin and the lackadaisical best friends.

He checked the clock. It was eight o'clock, still too early to cause any mischief upon Alfie. James had big plans, however. The idea had popped in his head out of nowhere during Transfiguration class, when Professor Boot was discussing the civil use of Human Transfiguration. It was genius! All he had to do for now was lay low and sneak peeks at the Marauder's Map for Alfie's whereabouts.

Contrary to Al's and Lily's protests, James did _not _nick his father's Map or Invisibility Cloak. Harry had gifted the Cloak to James on his eleventh birthday. The Marauder's Map, however, was an entirely different matter. James didn't consider it stealing if the Map was left in the living room, all open and innocent. Besides, he thought wryly, he was doing the original Marauders justice in this case. Unfair slander ought to have been punished.

Eight-thirty…nine o'clock…ten o'clock…All of the other Gryffindors had left to their respective dormitories or prefect meetings, except himself, Frank, Rose, Al, and Scorpius. Well, Rosie was actually awake and her eyes blurred as they skimmed each textbook. Al and Scorpius, however, had given up hope and had fallen asleep. It was too easy for James and Frank to sneak out in the Invisibility Cloak. It was miracle they still fit under the Cloak, seeing as they were rather tall sixth years.

While the two prowled for their quest on revenge, their thoughts were each on a different track. James knew he should have concentrated on one thing at a time, but his thoughts were scattered between worries on Alice's wellbeing (should he mention this to Frank?), the Gemma Dilemma (a fitting name for the situation at hand, if he said so himself), and the statistics of how many times a student could receive a detention before possible expulsion. He glanced quickly over at his mate, whose brows were furrowed as he studied the Map. Frank never spoke much about his personal problems, James realized with a guilty start. It was always about _James's _love life, _James's _epic fails and achievements. He couldn't recall a conversation focusing only on Frank.

Just as he decided to bring up that silent topic, Frank peered over James's shoulder and looked at the Map. His eyes widened in fear and he muttered, "James, we-we've got…" His voice trailed off and the duo looked up cautiously in front of them. They were outside of the Great Hall and they were not alone. They had company.

There were always an abundance of words to describe nights with Alfie. Enchanting was a word Gemma frequently used. Calming. Romantic. Fearless. Bubbly. There wasn't a pattern, however, to connect the dots and solve the puzzle of finding that one word to sum up these nights with her boyfriend. But at that very moment, Gemma could describe this night as _erratic_.

"What do you mean, _you were mistaken?_"

"My judgment was possibly faulty; therefore, the conjecture I had proposed to Slughorn might have been _mistaken_."

"Usually, the victim of the case should have logical evidence to back up their case, or so they say in the Wizengamot. But in this mysterious case, Alfie Thomas, I see no logical evidence so _I suggest you keep your mouth shut for now and your finger pointed away from me while I am speaking._" The electricity was no longer under control in the hazel storm. Once unleashed, it would continue to explode. And Gemma Wood was more than one type of furious.

Alfie ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his perfectly proportioned features. "Gem, it was an easy mistake. I don't understand why you're getting so worked up. My skin turned _purple_." He tried to adopt a pitiful expression, as if he couldn't believe anyone would have the nerve to make a disastrous potion.

Gemma rolled her eyes and took a dangerous step forward. Her voice dropped down so low, the effect chilled her bones. "I'm getting worked up because a certain witness to your supposed accident gave a clear and unbiased account of Potions this morning. James didn't even provoke you, Alfie. Not even once. You had specifically promised that you would try to get along. To keep the peace. Isn't that what you wanted as well? To at least try and make a sacrifice for your girlfriend?" She looked her boyfriend straight in the eye. As usual, those brown eyes were bright and the amber glints of the dark brown glowed. But instead of finding clear honesty, all she saw was a clouded haze of deception. She knew now that she had him cornered and so she waited for an explanation. She didn't expect to get a response, either.

She couldn't stand to look at him now. He had promised to keep the fighting to a minimum. He had said everything would be alright, that he would behave. Gemma wasn't a babysitter, which was certain enough. She couldn't be the referee for every little fight that those idiotic boys had. She was a teenage girl, for Merlin's sake. A teenage girl, Chaser, student, witch, etc.

"Gemma, listen, no-wait!" Alfie was calling out to her, for she had turned away in disgust. The logic (or twisted reasoning) of the situation was set: their relationship was on hold. She wasn't waiting for anyone this time.


End file.
